


Hateful Embrace

by AFarAwayOne



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Biting, Blindfolds, Bloodplay, Bulges and Nooks, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Tentabulges, Xeno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFarAwayOne/pseuds/AFarAwayOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terezi is in a black relationship with Vriska after she cut the unhealthy relationship she had with Gamzee. And though now she feels hate, humiliation, embarrassment and defeat, she know that what she has with the cobalt girl is what Kismesis really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is safe.  
> Next chapter is less safe.  
> Third one is outright smut.

Her words are sharper, her jabs more accurate and effective, and her lips more talented and her teeth more pushing. You're demanding but you can't back up your demands, and she is patient enough to drive you over the edge, catch you unprepared with a blunt stomp on your little toe and turn the sexy-hateful make up session to her favor.

For the first ten minutes or so she just held you down to the bed and macked on your face slowly and teasingly, infuriatingly slow and tender, only tensing up whenever you tried to fight back with a bite or head-butt, clashing your teeth together and pushing you further into the bed, as if she could sink you in. Eventually you give in, submissively letting her probing tongue explore your mouth and her teeth to lightly puncture your gums, drawing a little bit of teal blood. After that she smirks while still pressed to your mouth before she parts the kiss giving you one last lick before she got up. You were too smart to move while her figure is towering above you and you are lying on the bed.

She is infuriatingly pretty, her pretty eyes and the curves of her horns which were more visible now she a new haircut. And god, her new haircut is so cute it makes you want to barf. Eight thin braids dangling from the sides of her head, no more mass of hair below her shoulders. Her hair seems much smoother and clean now than ever. It was probably a service of her new fish-princess Moirail. As you sniff her look and adjusted your blindfold she slaps your cheek hard, you growl and push your back upwards to get up but she pushes you down with two fingers. Right on your blindfold on the bridge of your nose, her fingers only missing your eyes by a little bit as she almost blinded you again.

She takes it off with a snap, as the knot at the back slides across your head you shut your eyes instinctively to the coming of light into your pupils. She won't have any of that, you'll see the light of you want to or not. At first she slaps you across your cheeks, you accept the humiliation and the sting, but your eyes stay shut. She makes a pouty noise and crosses her arms to look at you with the usual disdain, and a new tinge of annoyance as you wave your arms forward trying to catch the blindfold, pretending that you can't smell it out of your reach. She doesn't wastes any time talking or hitting you some more, she just makes another annoyed sound and reaches for your nose, closing it shut by pressing on your nostrils. You immediately try to stop her and wave you immediately try to stop and rip her fucking arm off because this is gone way too far. But she stops you on the spot with a kiss. A gentle kiss, one of solace and kindness, her lips are soft on yours and her tongue is patient and rest. It's the kind of kiss two kismeses might have after a long fight is ended with a tie, to sooth their and their partner pain with. It's almost on the brink of redrom.

But as you enjoy the uncalled for kiss you realize her scheme. You can't breathe. You swat at her face but you can't smell either and your arms get reflected by her smooth cold skin. You either lose consciousness or you open your eyes, It's a win-win situation for her, like she needed any more winning.

Reluctantly you open your eyes. The brightness is awful, if anything Vriska's face pressed so close to yours only helps concealing it. And you guess that without your sense of smell, seeing isn't as disorienting as it usually is. You stare at her eyes, beautiful swirling patterns across her eight pupils.

She still won't let go, pressing harder unto your lips and clenching your nose tighter and painfully. You're newly acquired vision begins to fade as you sense the kiss turning black and fangs clashing against your teeth.

Your put your arms on her face, she isn't resisting as you use the remainder of your strength to pull her off and away from you. She smiles and her fangs slightly brush against your inner lower lips in a sensation which makes you quiver.

You take a big breath, eyes wide open as brightness fills them, and Vriska is laughing at you, mocking your adorable breathing.

"I've woooooooon…" she whispers, like the two of you didn't already realize it already.

"Only cuz I'm high on painkillers." You whisper back, not to be sexy like she attempted and succeeded at doing, but because you're short of breath.

The harsh beating you got from your former-miserable-excuse-for-a-kismesis still tormented you every whiff without the large dose of medicinal slime, and Vriska realized that. She went easy of you, she didn't stab or break and preventing you from smelling and breathing, as bitchy as it may, isn't nearly as grave an injustice as Gamzee did.

Vriska shuts up, savoring the moment.

"I'm gonna go claim my victory on the drugged dragon girl." She says and you blush teal immediately, even further than the constant blush you've had since the beginning of this session.

"Take of your shirt." She says as she walks out of the room. You lie there defeated, hating Vriska so hard, despising her for putting yourself in this, but enjoying yourself all the same.

"This is what a fucking Kismesistude is like…" you whisper to yourself as you shake an annoying clown-tune that's stuck in your head.


	2. Fallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is midquel between the first chapter and what I planned for chapter 2, so it's not quite as pervy as it was supposed to be.  
> The reason for this is because it came out too long and I'm already in a delay of publication.  
> Also, since I suspect things like that will happen more in the future, the number of chapters may increase once again.

You listen in on the drifting steps out of the door. You lay still on the bed, legs hanging of the edges and your bare feet hovering just above the ground. God, you hate those steps, so happy with herself she marches, still wearing her fashionable red snickers while holding your shoes and your blindfold in hand. Still, as much as despise her and the stupid irons in her fire, and perhaps because of your despising, you won't dare ignore her order. You shall remove your shirt, but there's no way in hell you admit to her criminal face that you did for her. You gotta find a loophole around her law, or an excuse. But first you decide to undress.

When you feel the edges of your shirt and pull them slowly against your pulsing hurting flesh you feel familiar moistness in the fabric. Sweat, you had been sweating bullets all throughout your session with Vriska, and you're sweating still, beads of clear sour liquid decorating your forehead. The dried sweat in your shirt and around your stomach is cold and pleasant to the touch, slick and smooth, like all troll sweat is. You're always forgetting that technically you're having a serious fever and healing from serious wounds. You lick around the gap in your mouth where your tooth used to be. Your head fills with animosity towards one purple shit-eating chute-sucking clown. Your shake your head to clear your thoughts, you're a mind player, for fuck's sake. You can't let thoughts of former haters to take your focus off your current one and her shitty plans. Thinking of her plans, that was a bad idea, it takes your focus the task at hand imagining exactly she has in her criminal mind. Sex, eventually, you're sure. But with Vriska it can't be that simple. She'll mess with you some more just before she could pail you just as she wants. You're almost tempted to just go with it and get to the pailing faster, but you decide to hold some pride and fight back while you can still postpone the inevitable.

You take your shirt off finally, one smooth move, thousands tiny pains as you're brushing against half-healed skin and cracked or broken ribs. You're covered in sweat, you feel like fucking Equius.

 

Her steps are getting closer as you hold your crumpled up shirt up to your naked chest. Your breasts aren't very large, but they're larger than the flat chest Vriska remembered you had when you were 6. Your hands slightly shake in excitement you're ashamed of having, and the vibration makes painful ripples go through you, which only intensify the shaking, like a circle of pain and a pathetic looking Terezi.

She halts next to the door, you know it's her, you recognize her footstep anywhere, she's lumbering around like a pirate like back in your flarping days, you thought it was just a phase, but apparently the phase is back.

"I'm gonna knock 8 times before opening this door and you better be topless with your eyes open or you'll regret it." She starts knocking and the horrible sound makes you wanna shut your eyes even further to hide from the world and this unfortunately timed black session.

She opens the door after exactly 16 agonizing seconds of knocking and your eyes are open, blurred-vision and full of tears you're struggling to prevent from rolling on your cheeks.

Both smelling her and seeing her and smelling her scent and being angry at her already makes you even angrier and more upset, and all of those stimuli make you just ugghhh. It's about 8 different negative feeling, you count.

She's not wearing anything sexy, to your surprise, she's wearing a simple t-shirt, fuschia colored and worn down from what you guess are numerous pale jams. The shirt reads 'h8 you' in a god-awful ugly font covered in the remains of pink glitters, yuck. This display offends your nostrils and now your eyes too.

"Give me the shirt and grab this." She throws something next to your head on the bed, it's cobalt blue and soft as it brushes on your cheek and rests there. Your turn your eyes in a minimalistic effort to look at it and see it's a pillow. She wants to do something soft.

"I'm not giving you my shirt." You say before she kicks your feet which were hovering the floor you climb up the bed until you're lying down completely. From this angle, though it's more comfortable, it's hard to get up and resist, you realize too late. You still clutch close to your shirt.

"Ditch the shirt, Pyrope, there's a reason I told you, nah, commanded you, to take it off."

"The same-"

"Yeah yeah, the same reason why you resist. Listen, I'm not here for this dom crap, I clearly not going to break you tonight."

"Or ever."

"Or ever…" she sighs and you smile satisfied, the painful grip on your own shirt lessens.

"All I want is to cuddle."

"Cuddle…" you don't ask that as a question. In a black relationship you don't ask the questions your rival wants you to ask. It's a trap.

"I know you're hurt as balls from _another, clearly inferior kismesis_ and I'm here to help, not as a kismesis…" she pauses and her face goes frozen for a second or eight. "But as a friend."

"I'm not buying it, friend…" you lift your head and stare at her with your narrowed pained eyes. "You're gonna pull me into a black embrace."

"No, you wish I still cared about our little previous strife." Vriska smirks and you can smell her obnoxious pride. "Bitch, I beat you, I claimed my prize, you're the topless helpless kismesis I defeated and you will cuddle under my terms. There's no need to defeat you further past the ultimate defeat."

You are at a dilemma, on one broken thumping hand you stop this fighting and fall back unto a comfy rest with a very inviting looking Vriska in her shitty t-shirt and short boxers, identical to yours, but with spiders instead of scalemates. It could even be kinda sexy as you verbally tease each other.

On the other clenched, nerve fist, you'd have to admit defeat directly, which is so not your style. This isn't just, you'll not give her the innocent verdict, at most you'll allow her to live with an indecisive doubt.

The clenching fist won, you're not letting her rude pillow toss win you over like a pathetic- gog dammit she's stroking your hair. Her movements are nice, friendly enough and are annoyingly enough exactly what you need.

You give in before she can pleasantly pet the base of your horns. You shift in the bed not saying a word, but chuckling lightly. You move the pillow to the small of your back and lean on it in a 30 degree angle and does in feel good.

You pat the bed in front of you and invite Vriska in. She scowls a little bit by your outrageous implications that you shall be the big spoon.

"Hug the pillow." She orders and you grumble and hold your own hair similarily to how she held it, but not nearly as skillfully.

"I rather hug you." You giggle.

"You rather not have these horns up your fresh new eyes." You look at her and evaluate her height. She's practically still 6 in her body, and it kinda creeps you out, she was always taller than you but with the physical age difference you're now the taller one, but quite a bit. Her face was always older for her age, so she's presentable as a short 7 sweeps old. But you still have the nagging feeling that you're 'preying on the young'.

You give up and painfully stretches back and put the pillow in front of it. You can't resist sighting in relief and you wrap your arms around it and sink in with your head and chest. Its soft feeling evenly covers your rib cage up and it feels divine. Behind you, you sense shifting on the band and smell through the pillow as Vriska situates herself behind you and despite the height differences is ready to spoon you.

She puts her foot in a sock between your two bare ankles and gently situates her arm on your stomach, she's fiddling around a bit with her legs and arms and it tickles, you both blush from the whole awkwardness of it.

But finally she settles gently behind and around you, your knees are folded at 45 degrees angle so you could fit in her shorter height and you're finally relaxed. Losing to Vriska might not be all that bad. Until she suddenly reaches her arm far out and you panic.

But all she does is grab the plaited blanket from the corner of the bed and covers herself and you with it, your naked chest is still exposed to the open air, though, but you feel comfortable. You relax finally, into your comfy subjugation.

"Can I close my eyes now?" you ask, with no snark or sarcasm.

"Give me the shirt first." You notice the grip around your shirt, which is loose enough for her to grab on her own. You let it go and put in her left hand which is crawled under the side of your neck and rests on the pillow.

As she reaches for the night stand next to the bed to put your shirt on it, you smell her taking something from it as well.

You realize it's a pair of headphones too late after the headset is already on your ears and a lock sound echoes behind your neck. She holds you as you squirm in pain and then BAM, the headset is on and the music is loud and obnoxious.

You can still hear her laugh, evil and faint beyond the noise that is shitty dubstep of all thing. She begins stroking your naked chest on your ribcage causing much pain and foot crawls up to press painfully on your small back.

All you do is whine and scream into the pillow in anger and tears as she encloses you into a hateful embrace.


End file.
